


Black Wolf

by Littlehobbitoffandoms



Category: Frontier (TV 2016)
Genre: Action, F/M, Frontier, Jason Momoa - Freeform, Romance, Suspense, historical fiction - Freeform, netflix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-01 05:24:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17238209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlehobbitoffandoms/pseuds/Littlehobbitoffandoms
Summary: Sequel to Heavy Burdens.Declan Harp survived the viciousness of Lord Benton and escapes to the High North. Unaware that Elizabeth Wilson is still alive and being held against her will on the property of the wealthy Lord. She's waiting on her marriage but in the meantime Fort James is in chaos.Benton's wounded and bedridden but, wants Declan no matter the cost. He offers a reward and Fort James's soon visited by bounty hunters. Something that Grace Emberly doesn't like. Knowing her tavern and the safety of Fort James is at risk, she makes a decision.Captain Chesterfield has his own plans with Fort James and will surprise Lord Benton...Michael and Sokanon are still looking for Declan Harp but unsure if they will find him. . .Elizabeth Curather, a wealthy widow and owner of a fur company, makes herself the enemy of Samuel Grant...





	1. Chapter 1

Note :

Just a little warning that this isn't a stand-alone book. You need to read Heavy Burdens first before starting this one. 

The title might need some explanation too :) But, I'm not going to give it just yet. There's a reason its called 'When Darkness Falls' but, you'll need to read it to find out. 

Also, I wrote Heavy Burdens when I watched the first season of Frontier. I only saw episode one of season two and will keep writing a chapter (or two...) everytime I see a new episode. And, gosh, there's already a season 3 and I read season 4 will be coming too! I'm so excited by this news haha. 

My husband is the best. For my Christmas I got an Ipad with a keyboard. Because I'm a mom and work fulltime, I got little time to write. But, this Ipad makes sure I can jolt down notes and ideas when they pop up in my head. Making sure I can write faster while my son's playing or asleep. :)  So take some advice on the romantic front from this lady : 'get you a man who supports your writing' 

I would like to thank you for reading Heavy Burdens. I hope you all get to enjoy When darkness falls as much as the first book. 

Now, lets see what Elizabeth and our fave's are up to, yeah? 

XoXo Aysline


	2. Chapter 1

Liz POV

Winter passed and spring came. Elizabeth's physical wound slowly healed but her mind was another story. Time seemed to slow down after the night she tried to kill Chesterfield. The night that Declan Harp died according to Lord Benton and the Captain. 

She wasn't allowed contact with the outside world and was oblivious to everything happening in Fort James. The only time Elizabeth was permitted to leave her bedroom was when dinner was served. And, it wasn't served in the dining room. 

A few days after the doctor stitched her up, Elizabeth heard of Captain Chesterfield that Benton got hurt in the fight when Declan charged him. An arrow of Sokanon had hit Lord Benton in his hip, making the old man bedridden and being treated by Imogen. One of Grace Emberly's working girls. 

Elizabeth slowly started to feel the unhappiness of the Captain. His frustration getting clearer to her every day that passed. The way he gritted his teeth when he needed to come get her for dinner. Liz always saw the captain as a nervous, frustrated man but, the last three months it was even worse. 

She refused to speak to him. Chesterfield did try a few times to get some information about who could've helped Declan that night. But, Elizabeth would just turn her head away from him, sitting on her chair by the window and stare outside towards the forest.   
Talking became foreign to her. Eating was something she did to keep herself alive. Although, Elizabeth was on the brink of starving herself, it seemed that Benton wasn't aware of her misery. That, or he just decided to ignore it. 

When she had to sit with him in his room to eat, Elizabeth hardly heard what he always talked about. Her gaze always travelling towards one of the windows...Blue eyes glazing over and focused on the tree-line. Hoping to catch a glimpse of a ghost. 

When spring came, Benton still wasn't better. His wound festered and Elizabeth was tasked to change his bandages every two days. Something she did without thinking too much about it. Benton calling it her duty as his soon to be wife. When he could walk again, he'd have her hand in marriage. Elizabeth wished he would never be able to use his legs again. Hoped the wound festered and bled so much that he would die a horrible, painful death. 

Somehow, in the demented mind of Benton, Elizabeth was already his wife. He told her things that made her skin crawl and one day in early spring when the leaves were just growing again, Liz tried to run away. 

One of the guards found her. And, although he pitied the woman pleading before him, his sense of duty was fed by the fear that Benton would have him whipped. Or worse... So, he brought her back. The man never told the Captain or Benton from her attempted escape. He, in his turn, pleaded her to not try it again. 

And, she didn't try again. 

Her 'good' behaviour didn't go by unnoticed by both the Captain or Benton. When the first rays of sun started to warm the grass of Fort James, Elizabeth was allowed to go outside of those four walls they kept her in. Always in company of a guard. 

Both men, Benton nor the Captain, had to fear she'd run away by then. Her spirit was broken and her features were pale. Blue eyes that once sparkled with spirit, were now dull and empty. Always gazing to the tree-line...

Sometimes Liz thought she'd seen him...That she saw Declan Harp standing under the cover of the trees and her heart would start to beat faster. But, as soon as she blinked her eyes, she sunk back in her chair by the window. Defeated. Realising that he wasn't coming for her. Slowly, she started to believe that Benton and the Captain told her the truth months ago. That Declan died. 

Her shoulders sunken under a weight that she carried alone. A weight no one could see. She wasn't completely numb. Liz cried herself to sleep every night, holding her blankets high while looking at the door. Hoping it wouldn't open with Benton walking in. Impossible for the man to even get out of bed without help but, nightmares plagued that he would come and dishonour her before they even got married. 

Mentally, Elizabeth was broken. Her spirit to fight completely drained out of her. And with every single threat from Benton or Chesterfield, her shoulders hung lower and lower. And soon, she realised that the ghost that she sometimes hoped to see by the tree-line wouldn't come to save her. 

But, with spring, came hope...

Fort James wasn't known for warm days. Once in a while the sun shone bright and long enough to warm up the rivers and turn the snow into water again. 

One morning, after the changing of the bandages, Elizabeth was on her way to the kitchen to dispose of the dirty rags when she heard a familiar voice ringing through the house. A voice that made her head snap up into the direction of Benton's office. 

The door was wide open and Liz tiptoed closer to peep her head through the opening. Just a bit because she could hear Chesterfield talking as well. Her eyes widen when she sees the natural red hair and small frame of Grace. 

The woman was involved in a heavy discussion with Chesterfield about a bounty that Benton wrote out and hung all over Fort James. Making Elizabeth wonder who the bounty was for. When the red-headed woman suddenly snaps her head into Liz's direction, Elizabeth shakes her head when a look of shock crosses Grace's features. 

Luckily, Grace was able to restrain herself on time before Chesterfield had any clue that Liz was standing there. The red-head simply turned to Chesterfield, took a deep breath and her voice rang out clear through the office. 

"If you remove the bounty from Declan's head, I'll marry you," the woman said loud enough for Liz to hear. 

Elizabeth didn't hear the rest of the conversation because she swiftly hid behind the door. Resting her back against the wall and trying to even her breathing. Her fingers clinging onto the rags and one of the maids who passed her, gave her a look of pity. 

Liz had no doubt that her face was pale at this point but when the maid took a step closer to her, Elizabeth, in a moment of pure joy, grabbed to young woman. Dropping the rags in the process. 

"He's alive," she whispers, looking around her with a smile around her lips. The made, Kate, shook her head. 

"Who?"

"Declan Harp," Elizabeth said, "He's alive."

Hope flared in her chest, making her cheeks heat up and colour a crimson red again. Kate, one of the maids who took care of Liz when she was wounded, looked around them. Fear written on her features. 

"We can't stand here, Elizabeth," she murmurs, pulling away out of her arms. 

Liz knew she was right and let the blonde made go towards the kitchen. She silently followed but Liz felt hope soaring in her chest again. She tried to keep her head down whenever a soldier or another maid crossed her path. 

In the kitchen, she disposed the bandages in the garbage bin when Grace suddenly entered the room. Elizabeth turned to the woman and felt her bottom lip tremble seeing the friendly, smiling face walk up to her. 

Grace pulled into a firm hug and Elizabeth couldn't move. The sudden warm gesture from someone who didn't want to hurt her became too much to handle. Hot tears stream of her cheeks when Liz finally hugs Grace back.

The woman gently pushing her a bit off her and looking at Elizabeth. 

"I thought you were dead," the woman murmured, emotion laced her voice and Liz locked eyes with her. Shaking her head slowly and drying her tears. 

"I wish I was," she admitted, turning away from her former boss. 

"Elizabeth," the strong, commanding voice that Grace could have , reached Liz's ears. Making her turn to face the woman again. Blue eyes glare at her and Liz felt one of Grace's barmaids again. That red-head could've been a leader of an army and everyone would listen to her with only one look. 

"Declan's still alive," Grace spoke, "as far as I know he went to the high North. That's the last time someone saw him. And that's...months ago." A sigh escaped her lips. "I promise you that I'll try to get you out of here. Benton won't be a problem much longer."

Elizabeth shook her head, confused how Grace would get her out of here. But, footsteps near the kitchen and Grace swiftly moved to the back door. Glancing at Elizabeth one last time. 

"Eat," she ordered, "grow strong again."

With that she left Elizabeth alone in the room. Bewildered but hopeful.


	3. Chapter 2

Liz's POV

The next morning Elizabeth woke up after a long sleep. Her body aching from lying in the bed since seven a.m. because Lord Benton hadn't summoned her for dinner. So, she ate in her chambers after Kate brought her bread with soup. And, Liz ate... a lot. Remembering Grace her words to get strong again. 

After Kate made her a hot bath and helped her with combing her hair after, Liz had stared outside the window for some time until sleep started to cloud her vision and mind. Her thoughts chaotic because hope was alive inside her again. And, although Liz always was an optimistic person by nature, she felt like it'd been ages she felt like this again. 

Maybe, it was because Grace had told her Declan was still alive. Maybe, it was because there were plans made that Liz didn't know half of it. But, whatever it was, it gave Elizabeth a new reason to keep going. 

She even slept that night without waking up every hour. One of the reasons that her body felt stiff and ached. Liz'd been laying on one side the whole time and it felt as if she slept for days instead for just seven hours. 

When Kate, the maid, entered, the woman stared into the dark room with wide eyes. 

"Lady Elizabeth," she muttered in surprise, "are you awake?"

Liz couldn't stifle the yawn escaping her lips and she stretched her limbs in the large bed. "I am," she replies, voice hoarse from sleep, "barely awake, ... but awake."

"You...slept?" Kate asked while walking to the windows to open the curtains. 

Elizabeth slowly crawled out of bed as soon as the morning sun sheds its rays through her large window and onto the bed. "Yes," she muttered, wiping her eyes with her hand before she walked to the closet. "But," Liz glanced over her shoulder to the blonde standing behind her, "aren't you early?"

 

Kate shrugged while she sat down on the side of the bed. The maid her features relaxed while her gaze travels over the room until she locked eyes with Liz. The woman was never relaxed, only when she was with Liz alone after closed doors. With reason, Elizabeth herself felt already stressed out when wandering around the house. And she hadn't the fear of being struck down when she broke something or worse, just when she annoyed someone with her presence. 

That was the only good thing that Lord Benton had offered her ; his protection against the whip or belt. 

But Kate, she wasn't that lucky. As a maid, whenever she did something wrong, there would be a strike of the back of a hand or worse... Elizabeth once stayed up with Kate all night when the woman had been hit by one of the guards because she broke a vase right before his eyes. The wound was bleeding and turned blue fast and Kate had ran over to Elizabeth her chamber. Liz had treated the gap and offered Kate her bed for the night. It didn't matter to her, Liz didn't sleep anyway. 

It was the start of a friendship that only got stronger during the months spend together. 

"I'm early," Kate spoke up, making Elizabeth come out of her thoughts, "Lord Benton wants to see you."

Liz can't stop the groan that left her lips. It seemed that her morning wasn't meant to be great after all. "What does he want," her voice suddenly dry and empty sounding. 

"I don't know," Kate replied while standing up to make Elizabeth sit down to comb her hair. "I've heard him shout to Chesterfield early this morning. And, poor Imogen ran out of his chambers stinking of piss."

Liz frowned and scrunched up her nose. "I hope she's okay," she whispers and shakes her head slowly. "Don't," she said while standing up when Kate pulls the brush through her hair, hurting Elizabeth when coming across some knots. "It doesn't matter, Benton doesn't even see if my hair's up or down."

Kate just shrugged and pulled out a simple dress out of Liz's wardrobe to lay out on the bed. The maid left the room. The ivory dress had no corset so Elizabeth was able to swiftly put it on by herself. 

With heavy footsteps and sour mood, Liz made her way to the Lord's chambers and entered with a soft knock on the door. 

There he was... Still lying in bed in his white nightclothes. A grin on his face as soon as Benton lays eyes on her. That grin always made Elizabeth shudder but she hid it well. 

"You summoned me, Lord Benton?" Her voice stronger then before and it didn't go by unnoticed. 

"I don't need to summon you," he countered back, trying to sit up a bit straighter so he could take a good look at Elizabeth. "You're my wife. You're supposed to take care of me out of love."

It made Elizabeth grit her teeth, her fists clenched next to her body and it took her all her strength to not try and strangle the man lying before her. 

"I'm not yet your wife, Lord," she sneers, not able to hide the disgust that's laced in her voice. She turned her gaze away from the disgusting man before her to stare out of the window. At least, Elizabeth still had the choice to look at him or not. And, she chose to not give him one look today. Her hands folded before her lap while she waited patiently for him to speak up again. 

"Give me some water, dear," he commanded. 

Without speaking a word, Liz made her way to the water bowl next to his bed. She took the glass into her hand and froze in place when she felt a hand sliding down her thigh. It made her glance over her shoulder to Benton whose gaze was plastered on her backside. 

A sudden flash of rage filled her frame, making her bottom lip quiver out of rage and  her body reacted on instinct. One of her hands slap away his hand while the other threw the glass on the floor. Liz snatched his wrist into her hand and pinched it, surprising the old man. 

"I'm not your wife," she sneered, closing the distance between their faces. Liz could smell the foul stench of antibiotics that left his mouth when Benton breathed. "You'll never touch me. We'll never get married and if we do," she spat, "I'll make damn sure you or I won't survive the wedding night."

It took the man a while to realise what she said but Liz could see the exact moment when it dawned on him. His features grew angry and he snatched his wrist lose out of her grip. He even tried to get a hold on her but Elizabeth just took a step back. She knew full well he wasn't able to leave the bed. Even if he did, she could easily out run him. At least, until the Captain would catch her.   
"You ungrateful cunt," his voice filled the room and Liz could practically feel his anger radiating off him. "I saved your life. I patched you up. I gave you dresses and a home."

"You gave me nothing but fear," she countered back. She opened her lips again to speak but the door of the Lord's chambers suddenly burst open. 

Elizabeth quickly took a few steps back when Captain Chesterfield entered with six soldiers behind him. She was certain he heard Benton and her voice through the door but Chesterfield wasn't even looking at her. As if Elizabeth wasn't in the room at all. 

Lord Benton looked a surprised as her. 

"Chesterfield? I didn't ask for you," he started. 

The captain just shook his head which made Benton silent. The look on Chesterfield's face was one out of victory. Or so it seemed to Liz who was standing in the corner of the room, next to the bathroom door. Benton pointed at her, directing all of the unwanted attention of everyone in the room towards Elizabeth. 

"I was having talk with my wife and you..."

"She isn't your wife, Lord Benton," Chesterfield spoke up, his voice filled with a pleasant tone.   
The captain his eyes sparkled when he locked eyes with Elizabeth for a second before one of his soldiers offered him a scroll of paper. 

"You're released from you ambit," he started and with those words, Elizabeth felt her heartbeat speed up, "and you'll be going to jail in London to stand trail for the murder on the priest."

At that point, Benton was trying to get out of bed but wasn't too successful. 

"You disappoint me, Chesterfield," but the Lord couldn't hide the panic in his voice seeing the soldiers closing in on him. "You can't do this!"

"Oh I can, Lord Benton," the Captain just said, voice calm and a grin plastered on his face. "You'll be locked on the ship that just docked into the harbour. You'll be transported back to London."

"You ungrateful dog!"

Elizabeth just saw how three soldiers pulled the old man out of his bed and out of his chambers. He didn't stop shouting until the front door closed behind him and Liz kept standing frozen in the room until Chesterfield looked at her. 

"And you," he started but shook his head. "I'll deal with you later. Go back to your room."

With those words, Chesterfield left the room. 

Elizabeth's head was spinning, trying to get her thoughts in order about what just happened.


	4. Chapter 3

Declan's POV

 

The cold never bothered him much. Not when he was a child and certainly not as an adult. Though, even Declan must admit that the High North was ruthless. If the cold didn't kill you, the dangerous ice - mostly covered by snow - might. One misstep and you'd be drowning into water as cold as the ice itself. 

But, it seemed that not only Declan wasn't really bothered by the cold, the two people who saved him weren't either. Always clothed in thick furs and leathers, the old man and the little girl - both Inuit by birth - were used to these temperatures. 

The only time Declan suffered from the cold in the North, was when he was still delirious from the fever. He could hardly remember how he even got where he was now ; in a small tent, eating fish and playing a game with the Inuit child whose name wasn't known. 

Vague, Declan could recall being put in a boat with blankets and water. The next thing he knew, the man he's looking at in the tent, brought him back and took care of him. 

Declan quickly recovered and the little girl always wanted to play around with him. Something he didn't mind doing. But, this way, he quickly knew the older man must be her grandfather. When he's given a big, white, fur coat to wear, Declan bent down to the girl while rubbing her head.   
"Was this your fathers?" He'd asked while looking at the girl. 

She didn't understand him. Nor could he understand them but the sad look in her eyes when Declan wore the coat , told him enough. He liked them and Declan longed to have a life like them. It seemed they were alone, just the two of them living like this. And, in that moment, he'd knew he'd do anything to repay them for their kindness. 

That's why he was gutting a deer he caught earlier that morning on a hunt. Wildlife wasn't like in the South. These animals were much harder to track because they took shelter and only came out when hungry. But, he got lucky this morning when this beautiful, white deer came out of nowhere. 

He shot it, dragged it close to the tent where the child and man were sleeping peacefully and started to cut open the belly of the beast to remove its guts. The snow underneath the animal coloured a deep red, and so did his sleeves. 

They didn't think Declan would be able to see, or hear, them coming from behind him. But he was. He'd heard them long before both men decided it'd be a wise decision to try and attack. When both neared him from behind a rock, Declan was able to swiftly use the cover of the few bushes around here to disappear and sneaked up to them from behind. 

Grabbing one of the armed men by the neck and turn him to face his partner. With his free arm, Declan throws the knife he'd been cutting the deer with straight into the other man's shoulder. 

"Drop the weapon and you'll survive this," Declan said, his voice a warning while he tightened the grip on the man's neck. 

The man in his grip panicked, raising his arms as far as he could while waving to his friend. 

"Do what he says! He means it," panic in his voice but the other didn't oblige, ... at all. 

"And lose two hundred pounds? I don't think so," pointing his rifle towards Declan.

"Listen to your comrade," Declan warns but the one holding the gun didn't listen. 

Instead, Declan hears the rifle click, meaning the man had pulled the trigger. Declan was fast. His reflexes swift when he pulled the man in his hold before him. Using him as a shield when the bullet enters the man's forehead with a wet thump sound. 

Declan moved fast, knowing he'd need to be at the shooter's side before the man could reload his gun. It wasn't a challenge to him...The man was wounded by the shoulder because of the knife wound.   
"Don't," Declan warns again and sees how the man pulled his hands from the gun and drop the rifle. Holding up one hand while the other covered his wound. 

Harp thinks for a moment while kneeling on one leg before the man. He could just kill him and be done with it. But, that would mean the child and the Inuit man would be in trouble. More like these bounty hunters would come this way. If these two idiots found him...no doubt, other, smarter, ones would come. 

He rubbed his beard before looking at the man again. Scanning his attire and features. Everything screamed bounty hunter to him. There wasn't a doubt. But for the two lying asleep in the tent, Declan, for once, wanted to show mercy. Something he didn't do often. The last time he did, it was with Michael. 

Michael. One of the people Declan Harp didn't want to think about during his time in the High North. Every time someone crossed his mind, he went to busy himself with something else. Knowing full well that when he did think about them, he'd be back in Fort James in no time. And after losing Elizabeth...Declan wasn't sure he was up for that...Just yet. 

Not because he didn't want to go back. Because he did. Oh he did...

He wasn't ready with planning the ruin of Lord Benton and Chesterfield. Everything he came up with was either not painful enough, or he wasn't sure it would work. They took from him the one thing that made him feel human again instead of just a killing machine out for vengeance.   
Looking at the man lying in the snow, now pleading for his life, Declan felt conflicted but sighed. "What happened to your shoulder," he asked while glancing at the tent in the short distance. There wasn't any movement there, meaning the two Inuit were still sleeping. 

"I got wounded," the man replied and Declan locked eyes with him again. 

"How?" He mutters, leaning his arm on his knee. 

"I-I-I fell off a rock."

Declan wiped his forehead with his arm, leaving a blood trail from the deer in his skin there. "What happened to your partner?"

Silence. This wasn't a good sign for Declan and he felt a headache slowly forming behind his eyes. But, he waited patiently for the man to come up with an answer. 

"He died," he suddenly blurted out. "In the river. Yes," his eyes twitched and Declan shook his head slowly. 

"I can see it in your eyes," he simply stated before getting up again. 

"No, no, I won't...," the man started but Declan turned his gaze to the sky and took a deep breath in before clicking his small axe loose from his breeches. He didn't hear the begging of the man lying before him. Declan knew the bounty hunter would lead others this way. 

Without mercy or second thought, he swiftly brings the small axe down. Penetrating the neck of the bounty hunter in one swift move. Death in a second. It was a fast kill, no pain. In one smooth move, Declan pulls the axe out of the man again before looking at the tent again. 

His eyes widen when he sees the Inuit child staring at him from a distance. And for once, Declan Harp feels guilty. Not about killing the man, but that the innocent child had seen the murder happen. Even if they spoke the same language, there wasn't anything he could have said to make this murder seem easier to her. 

But, the young child didn't seem fazed by it. She just came running towards him, carefully jumping over the deer and the blood spots on the snow until she hugs his legs. Declan pats her head gently, letting her know he's fine while he locks eyes with her grandfather who emerged from the tent and sees the bodies. 

Declan knew...They had to go away from here. As fast as possible. He'd go South, they could go North. He'd do anything to keep these two safe. 

And it was time. Time to go back towards Fort James. He was healed and fit again. He could go the South Outpost. He knew someone. 

Declan Harp wasn't planning on going back so soon, but the situation called for it. After he tried to explain to his two friends that they had to go farther North and he South, Declan only stayed to help burry the murdered men because the Inuit grand father wanted too. And they didn't have time to do it all by theirselves. So he helped...

But, only a few hours later, he was on his way towards the South again.

—-

Author's note : A chapter out of Declan's POV. The next one will be one out of his POV too! Let me know if you liked it by clicking the vote button. Or leave a comment ;) Lots of love - Aysline


	5. Chapter 4

Declan's POV

The walk to the Southern Outpost took him two days. Declan had to fight himself through the deep snow and it slowed him down more than he liked. He could have made a straight line into the direction of Fort James or the disputed territory close by, but he needed to see someone. 

Declan Harp knew he'd need help to take down Lord Benton this time. 

And, one of his oldest friends would be up to the task. Not scared to kill a man, or two, and merciless when it came to it. Exactly who Declan needed by his side. 

McTaggart ran the Southern Outpost for years now. And when the Outpost finally came into view, Declan noticed the Wanted poster with his face on it. He ignored it. Just like he ignored the black man sitting on the wooden crate before a fire who looked at Declan. Probably recognising his face but Declan couldn't care less. 

Entering the Outpost, Declan makes his way to the back while he grabbed a pint from another table. He sat down in a corner, feet on the table and waited patiently for McTaggart. 

Declan took off his coat, revealing the bloodied sleeves and he felt the stares of the people around them. It amused him. He always had been a wanted man since his feud with Benton, but never did Declan had a price on his head. He noticed the look on the other faces, contemplating if it was worth the fight for those two hundred pounds. 

Declan couldn't care less. He could take them in a fight. Even if he didn't, he'd at least get to punch someone, maybe kill one of these bastards. Everyone who sat in this Outpost either did something and was on the run, or just passing through. When Declan entered, he had scanned the establishment. None of the men here were bounty hunters. Just travellers. Minding their own business. 

"Oh no, you didn't," Declan heard a familiar voice coming from behind the corner. "You didn't just entered here now did you!"

The next moment, the bartender - and owner - of the Southpost, made everyone leave the tavern. Threatening with their lives if they weren't outside in just a few seconds. It made Declan grin and he stood up to look at the smaller man who now stood before him. 

"C'mon," McTaggart spoke, raising his fist, "show me that cheek, you bastard."

Declan raised a brow but closed his right eye, readying himself for the impact of a fist. 

"Don't close that eye! You don't see anything with it anyway," McTaggart said. 

Declan didn't speak up, just lowered his head a bit so McTaggart could easily punch him in the face. He deserved it. It was a bet they made all these years ago and McTaggart still had to collect. 

But, the punch didn't came on Declan's face, instead McTaggart planted one in his stomach. It made Declan buckle for a moment but, when looking at his friend, Harp can't help but grin. 

"You know you deserve much worse," McTaggart spat at him. 

"I know," Declan grunted, standing straight again before patting McTaggart' shoulder. "I need your help."

McTaggart shook his head while walking to his bar, filling a pint with strong ale and drinking it. Declan followed, while he watched the man drink and saw the beer dripping from the other's chin. 

"You're a wanted man, Harp. Why should I help a runaway eh?"

"Benton. I need to kill him."

"You don't know yet? Ooooh, you don't knoooow yet," McTaggart sung, testing Declan's patience. 

But, Harp waited. Frowning while listening how McTaggart said that Lord Benton was on his way to London. That Chesterfield was governor over Fort James now. 

"Oy, and Benton's lady' s gonna be in trouble I s'pose," McTaggart drunk from his pint again. 

This time, Declan locked eyes with his friend and raised a brow. "Benton wasn't married," he spoke patiently. He knew McTaggart loved to hear himself talk and Declan also knew he better waited for the explanation or else the man wouldn't speak again. Or forgot what he was talking about all together. Alcohol abuse could do that to a man. McTaggart was the living proof of that. It didn't help that the man was batshit crazy. 

McTaggart looked up at Declan and nodded slowly. 

"A beauty. Or so I heard. Lord Benton had her hidden in his mansion for months on end. Not married yet but, I'm sure the old son of a bitch had a piece of that ass," McTaggart wanted to drink again but Declan swiftly moved his hand to pull away the man's pint. 

"Her name?" 

Declan's friend shrugged. "I dunno man. What's it to you? That girl must've been crazy as hell. I heard she tried to kill the new governor, Chesterfield or somethin'. She's a goner if you ask me."  
Declan let go of McTaggart's pint and turned to face the windows to the far left. He felt his heartbeat increase feverishly. When the face of Elizabeth appears in his mind - her smile and stubborn look in those blue eyes of hers - Declan gritted his teeth. 

She was still alive. All this time. 

"I need your help," Declan said again, making McTaggart look at him once more. 

"No, Declan, what you need are murderers," he countered back with a grin. "And Benton's long gone towards London by ship. Probably left Fort James days ago. Whatcha gonna do? Follow him there?"

"Then I take down his fur company," Declan tapped his fingers on the bar. Trying to keep his mind on the task. Not an easy thing now that he knew Elizabeth was still alive and no doubt Captain - or rather Governor - Chesterfield would have plans with her. 

"Aye and you can take down the King of England after ey," McTaggart said, making Declan open his lips again when the two men suddenly heard commotion coming from outside. 

They both looked at each other before opening the door. Declan saw the black man tied to a pole with two men a few feet behind him. The slash of the whip made him blink his eyes for a moment and it took hem several seconds before realising the coloured man was being punished for something. 

"Let it go, Declan." McTaggart was already turning around to go back in but ,Declan felt the familiar rage filling his veins. Anger was already boiling underneath his skin when he hear from McTaggart that Lord Benton wanted to make Elizabeth his wife and seeing the man holding the whip, he strode forward. Holding his pace when he stood next to the tied up man. 

"What did you do?"

Holding the gaze of the older man a few feet away from him. 

"I - I - I questioned the knowledge of my master."

"Leave," the older man suddenly spoke. His tone harsh and Declan felt the smile around his lips grow. "This is between me and my possession."

Harp clicked his tongue, glanced over his shoulder to see that McTaggart was standing behind him. A fight would do him good...And this would be for a good cause. 

He cut the man lose with the help of one of his spare blades. Declan had given the Inuit man his good blade. A present because he helped him. 

"Go inside," he muttered when he saw the surprise on the black man's features. 

He had heard the sound of the whip too late to take a step to the side ; the leather cord striking the skin on his shoulder and Declan hissed out of pain. He turned on his heel to face the older man again, he growled deeply. 

"Do that again," he warned. 

The man, with a Southern accent - no doubt from Virginia - let the leather cord come into his direction again. But, Declan saw it coming this time. Swiftly, he grabbed the whip and strode towards the guy who immediately started to back down. 

"That's a nice jacket you have there," Declan murmured, making the man pull it off and give it to him. 

Declan held the coat before him. "This," he started, anger laced in his voice while thinking of Elizabeth, "this is a material you can possess." He pulled out a pistol from the man's belt. "This," he gritted through his teeth, wanting to strangle the Southerner with his bare hands. "This is something you can possess. Do you understand?"

A nod was given and Declan let go. He felt too tired. Too exhausted to have a fight tonight. "Run back to Virginia," he simply said and entered the Southpost again. 

"McTaggart," finding the man at his bar again. "I need weapons."

Facing the dark toned man in the corner. "Are you coming with us?"

A simple nod from the man's head and Declan grinned. He had the manpower. Now he just needed to find Michael and Sokanon. 

After that, his destination would be Fort James.

*

Author's note :   
Yes! He knows she's alive!   
Next chapter is Liz' POV.   
And it will have a trigger warning for torture, blood and gore...

If you liked the chapter, please remember to give a little vote.   
Comments are also welcome! Let me know what you think!  
Happy New Year everyone!  
Lot's of love  
Aysline


	6. Chapter 6

Trigger Warning : At the end of this chapter, there will be mention of torture and blood. Please, when you're triggered by this, I advice you to skip the last three paragraphs. 

—

Liz POV

Although it was spring, the air felt like ice against her naked back. Her skin exposed to the soldiers and the new Governor. The Governor she tried to kill just a few months ago and apparently, Chesterfield was someone who carried a grudge. Not that Elizabeth could blame him...She'd probably wouldn't easily forgive someone who tried to stab her. 

Nothing more than her night gown to shield her front side from the staring eyes all around her. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes closed and her hands clenched into fists. Nails digging into the palms of her hand but, whatever was going to happen...It'd be much worse then her own nails drawing blood from her skin. 

Elizabeth was present when Chesterfield and his new wife, Grace, had dinner last night. She had been tasked with serving the meal and the governor had ordered her to make sure the glasses were full all the time. He even made sure it was the best wine out of Benton's cellar that was being served. 

Liz had no other choice then to oblige his wishes. Not certain why she was still allowed to be in the mansion since Benton had left by ship days ago. She was suspicious by this little fact. Also, Chesterfield didn't say a word to her about the incident between them months ago. The little 'I planted a dagger into you to kill you' - incident. 

Elizabeth stayed silent and tried to use the cover of her own chambers to stay out of sight. Afraid what Chesterfield would do to her. 

But, apparently, he had his own worries. One of them being Grace Emberly. She agreed to marry Chesterfield, if he took the bounty down on Declan's head. For Elizabeth, this only confirmed he was still alive. And sometimes, the question of why he wasn't in Fort James yet, nagged in the back of her mind. 

Grace wasn't comfortable during dinner with the new Governor. Sharing glances with each other, Elizabeth felt sorry for her. She knew damn well how Grace felt but, at least, Liz never got married to Benton. 

Chesterfield was clear about his wishes. He wanted to seal their marriage and Elizabeth had pinched the bottle of wine so hard, she felt her fingers hurt when he suggested that Grace shared the bed with him before sending out the letters that would cancel the bounty on Declan's head. 

As always, the red-head was smart about it. Demanding the letters first before fully agreeing to sleep with Chesterfield. But, when he wrote the letters and called for one of the maids to bring them to one of the Captains, Elizabeth swiftly made use of  his distraction. 

Her hand quickly reached for one of the letters on the table and pushed it in Grace's hands. Who in her turn, put it away in one of her boots to hide it from the Governor. He turned to face them, arching a brow seeing how close they stood to each other. But, Elizabeth just nodded her head and left the room. 

She had no idea what happened next but, she hadn't reached her chamber yet when Elizabeth heard Chesterfield shout at Grace. Liz glanced over the railing of the stairs just in time to see how Grace fled from the room downstairs and left the mansion. 

An angry Chesterfield close on her heels but he didn't leave the house. His stance was aggressive ; fists hanging next to his body, mouth in a sneer and a glowing, red spot on his cheek. 

It made Elizabeth bite back a chuckle ; no doubt about it that Grace let him have a taste of her right hook. Whoever was as nuts to ask Grace Emberly to wear a dress deserved a blue eye or worse. 

She must have made a sound - those old stairs always creaked - because Chesterfeld suddenly glared up into her direction. Elizabeth noticed the venom in his eyes when he pointed at her. 

"You," Chesterfield waved towards the ground. "Downstairs right now."

He strode off into the dining room and Elizabeth hesitated to go down. But, when she heard Chesterfield threaten with calling his soldiers on her, Liz quickly made her way to the dining room.   
The candlelight shedded a soft, glowing light against the walls. On other times, Elizabeth would find it beautiful but, this time, the light shedded shadows on Chesterfield's face. Making him look menacing when he turned his eyes towards her while sitting on his chair at the head of the table. 

"It's time you hear your punishment," he started. 

"Punishment, Captain Chesterfield?" She couldn't hold back the mocking tone in her voice. Even her right eyebrow arched while she looked at him. 

That got to him. Eyes narrowed, he leaned forward to look at her. 

"Lady Wilson, due to your attempt of trying kill me," the door opened behind her, revealing three soldiers armed and staring right to her. "You'll be banished from this mansion. You'll work for free in my wife's tavern."

A sigh escaped her lips, eyes fluttered closed and relief washed over her. This wasn't a punishment for her, but freedom. Elizabeth was sure that Grace was behind this and needed to find a way to thank her friend. 

"But," the governor's voice sounded amused in her ears. It made her open her eyes again and look at him. His eyes sparkled in the candlelight. "Tomorrow before dawn, twenty lashes on your back."

Her bottom lip quivered, her frame trembled upon hearing those words. A sneer on his face, apparent that Chesterfield revelled with joy seeing her obvious fear displayed on her features. 

"And, my dear," pretending to be Lord Benton, "you shall count every lash you feel on your back or I'll start over with counting."

She didn't sleep that night and for once, dawn came too early. Elizabeth was being escorted by two red coats to the square of the mansion where Chesterfield was waiting on her. 

Stripped from her clothes, leaving her nightgown resting on her hips and her front was covered because of the large, wooden pool she was tight too. She took a few, deep breaths in and out when she heard Chesterfield give the command to one of his underlings. 

The lash came fast and hard. 

Striking her on the lower part of her back, leaving an angry, red mark where it hit her skin. Elizabeth didn't scream. Not yet, at least. But, she did bit her tongue, making it bleed to numb the sharp pain spreading on her back. 

"I didn't hear you," Chesterfield shouted. 

She closed her eyes, straightened herself up again and rested her forehead against the cold, wooden beam. 

"One!"

She shouted, loud and clear but the second lash was already on the way. Hitting her in the middle of her back, drawing blood this time. Liz could feel the warm liquid dripping onto her nightgown and she bend her head. Tears pricked her eyes but God be damned, she wasn't about to give that sadist of a Chesterfield the pleasure to see her cry. 

"Two!"

By the tenth lash hitting her bloodied, raw back, Elizabeth let the tears stream freely over her face. The pain was close to unbearable and her mind wanted to turn itself off. So she couldn't feel the pain no more. But, the voice of Chesterfield rang through her ears. 

"T-t-en," she muttered, leaning her head back while she buckled through her knees. 

She hard the Governor whisper to get his wife from the tavern when the eleventh lash stroke her again. And it was the first time Elizabeth screamed out of pure agony. Her back was raw. Bloodied and bruised. Her skin revealed the muscle underneath. The pain wasn't sharp no more. It was a burning sensation and it throbbed with every breath she took. 

For the first time in her life, Elizabeth prayed to God to make this stop. 

By the eighteenth lash, she was barely conscious when Grace Emberly witnessed the horror when entering the square on her heavy boots. 

The next thing Elizabeth knew, were the shackles coming off her wrists. Making her fall down, too weak to stand. She didn't feel the fall on the ground. The last thing she saw were the blue eyes and red hair of Grace above her. Shouting something she couldn't hear. 

Elizabeth passed out from the pain and the bloodloss while Grace carefully covered her up. Liz's robe wasn't white anymore. It was now a crimson red because of the blood coating the cotton. 

—-  
Poor Liz...Well, sometimes things need to get worse before they get better. Luckily for her, Declan is on his way to Fort James. 

If you liked this chapter, remember to give me a little vote ;) Or give a comment! I love your feedback!  
XoXo Aysline


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